Alright listen up you monkeys:
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You ALL know who I am; I'm the guy at the office that keeps a nice stash of candy in his office. My candy stash is FAR SUPERIOR to any other candy stash in the office, public or covert, and is stacked the way it is because I LIKE IT THAT WAY.
The "candy dish" as you walk into our environmental consulting office front-offic has fucking chocolate covered blueberries in it. I mean, there are some old chewy sweet-tarts, and maybe even a mini-Reeses cup, but I swear to you, it is mostly the same nasty-ass, airport bought, "boutique chocolates" that have been sitting there for the past two years. Up until last week, I could have sworn I saw some fucking CANDY-CORN in there. Dude!
The candy stash in "PollyAnna's" (name changed to protect the company) office consists entirely of salty and chocolatey menses-related quick-fixes, and pixie-sticks. Pixie sticks you ask? Yeah man, fucking pixie sticks? This woman is 35 years old and she has pixie sticks hidden in her office drawer. And if you fuck with her pixie sticks, oh jesus christ will you be sorry. You have never seen the flaming inner-office emails that go round when someone fucks with her shitty dark chocolate covered peanuts and pixie sticks.
My office, on the other hand, is a friendly non-conformist, gen-x slacker/stoner decorated, personalized shit all over the walls kind of place, where EVERYONE else from the office comes when they "need a break". First offf I should tell you that actually I dig people coming back to talk to me. Seriously, I do. I don't want to work any more than you do, and with my unique center-of-the-office-universe gravitational pull; I have listened to enough bitching and "confidential information" to take any one of you fuckers down if I choose to.
And now here's the warning.
Yeah, I know that I choose to have a basket full of delicious candies in my office. Yeah, it IS there for everyone to grap from as they choose, if they are in my good graces and IF i am in a pleasant enough mood to small talk with you while I try to get my production deadline out.
And here is what I put into the basket most recently:
2 bags of mini candy bars. Not shitty knock-off or no-name candy bars, but the big dogs. I'm talking Snickers, Twix, Milky Way, Crunch bars, and fucking Baby Ruths man.
2 bags of ASSORTED Jolly Rancher flavors. "Assorted" in this case included the traditional variety (cherry, apple, orange, grape, etc.), AND the crazy tropical flavors (I know, I do too much for these people).
2 bags of Blo-pops. For those of you NOT in the know, there are 4 flavors of Blo-pops (Cherry, Strawberry, Apple, and Grape).
Laffy-Taffy. 'Nuff said.
And some more stuff that I won't even bore you with.
Now I KNOW the trends of this office, as I've worked here for 5 fucking years, and I KNOW you people don't really think much about "cumulative effects", even though that is EXACTLY the kind of thing you all write about in the EIR/EIS/NES/BA's that we produce for million dollar clients on a daily basis.
But check it out.
Today, I went to my basket of goodness and life-affirming sugar, and there was nothing in there but 28 GRAPE Jolly Ranchers and 7 GRAPE Blo-Pops.
I DON'T LIKE GRAPE EITHER YOU SELF-ABSORBED COCKSUCKERS!!!!!
Who took the last Baby Ruth?
Seriously, which one of you non-grape-candy-eating MOTHERFUCKERS is responsible for ruining me?